There's a reflexive look of rejection, and then a flush of embarrassment for having such a stupid reaction. It passes over his features for only a moment and then there's an easy smile, one of his lower hands slides to free that poor cock, savoring the weight of it and giving a few idle strokes.
The fur on his hands is less thick than in other places, but just as soft and he wonders if this might be a novel sensation for him, and how long it took before it began common place for Angel? "Tell me about next time," he encourages, licking a stripe delicately along his jaw and whispers in his ear, "Tell me all the thing you want to do to me?"
The fur is new. Some races back home are hairier than others, true, but none quite this much. Astarion, by contrast, simply doesn't grow any hair below his scalp and eyebrows. The skin under Angel's tongue is perfectly smooth, and he shivers at the touch.
"I want to take my time with you," he breathes, hips rolling against Angel's hand. "I want to open you up on my tongue and feel your thighs shuddering against my skin."
"I'd take you slowly," Astarion murmurs, tilting his head to give Angel the
white expanse of his throat - unmarked but for two ragged punctures.
"However you prefer to be taken, below me or on top of me - what do you
like better?"
A second hand joins the first, fingers tracing and delicately toying with his head, while the other still moved nice and slow. His grip shifted, mimicking the drag of a body with fluctuating pressure.
He licks over that scar gently. "Below, if I've been quivering all that time~" There's a teasing smirk, and then an honest answer. "...I like it best below, but where we're face ta face. Not the sort of answer a porn star's supposed ta have."
Astarion shudders at the touch, the doubling of sensation, the care taken
to simulate the experience he's narrating.
"Then I'll have you like nobody's watching, darling. I'll wrap your legs
around my waist and hide your body under mine, fuck you until you're
trembling."
Another benifit of so many hands, there's plenty more to skim over sensitive area, up along ribs to tease at a pretty nipple, and down to fondle his balls, his own breathe shaking as he sighs.
"Might be trembling all ready, you paint a tempting fuckin' picture. Would you make me wait? Long and slow but lot allowed until you're ready? Or you wanna see how many times I can go in a row before I'm begging?"
"That - mm, that depends on you." His voice is getting a little lower
now, more laboured. Precome is leaking onto Angel's clever fingers as he
moves restlessly, thrusting into his grip. "I look at you and want to
indulge you. Want you to have everything you want."
He knows that's probably kind of alarming for someone like Angel. Gods
know that he himself immediately defaults to trying to be what his lover
wants, that he barely even knows what he enjoys in bed beyond the
simplest acts of pleasure. But it's true.
His hands keep working, smearing that precome with his thumb, and picking up the pace but his words drop off for a beat, not sure how to take that. It's just sex talk, Angel reasons. People have promised all sorts of things and played all sorts of roles in his bed, occasionally treating him like a real lover. Albeit one that will sit there and take the degradation that follows.
Or it's just two whores both stuck in their roles of pleasing.
"I want...you ta come on my tongue. Let me taste you, Beautiful," he encourages, switching from the fantasy to the present to avoid the fear that put in him. And he moves to lower his face and part his lips, tongue presenting a pretty target for him while he switches to stroking him with his upper pair of arms.
It's such a lurid, visual thing to ask for, such a pornographic way to present himself - Astarion knows that it's a default to something familiar, regardless of whether he finds it unpleasant. But it's undeniably stimulating, appealing to some animal part of him which is just chasing bliss. He can only gasp a warning and curl his hands tight in the sheets before he comes.
The eager sound Angel made as Astarion spills over his tongue is more genuine than not, he does enjoy this part. It's linked in his mind with where either praise or degradation will follow, and he finds a sort of comfort in them both- knowing what to expect.
He pumps Astarion through like he wants every drop he can get, holding the cum on his tongue and eyes trained on the elf before he swallows it down. Angel gives the oversensitive head a soft lick, releasing him with a coy grin, head ducking.
Astarion lets out a final shivering moan, the trace of overstimulation making his toes curl and his thighs twitch as Angel wrings out the very last of his orgasm.
There's a soft laugh, and Angel happily moves to deliver a grateful series of kisses. "This way ain't so bad..." he teases, no one buying the other's time, each free to say yes or no as they please. It's unfamiliar still, but...nice, and he swears to fuck he's not going to get fucking emotional about it, at the very least not until he's alone.
"That mean you'd invite me back? 'Cause I'd like that. You were pretty damn good. Worth not gettin' paid even." And there's very few people he can think of that fit that category, and mosta them are giving him drugs. Which to be fair Astarion had done previously, but Angel isn't here to thank him for that.
"High praise," Astarion drawls, but he takes it in the spirit it was
intended in. "Yes, I'd invite you back. I'd even respond favourably to an
invitation of your own."
He smirks playfully, sure Astarion understands what he means.
"Careful, a gal could catch feelins if ya go sayin stuff like that," he laughs, and gives a considering hum. "Been a while since I got to pick. You can expect ta get one."
"Heh-" Angel takes that as his cue to start dressing, eyes scouting out that abandoned dress. "Most people don' offer even if they do, so you're good. An' ya left me pretty clean. You know what a bitch it is to get dried cum outta fur?"
"Heh, you were real sweet, Babe, don' worry." There's the dress. He collects it and pulls it on, trying to re-fluff and style his fur with his fingers. "...didn' feel like you was talkin' down ta me- before. I needed that."
"Yes, well." Astarion looks away, not altogether comfortable with
compliments about his interpersonal skills if they're not of the 'slot A,
tab B' variety. "I have to make the occasional exception."
He goes about gathering his own clothes. Frankly, his experience of fucking people back home who weren't about to be taken away and eaten was...limited.
He knows in movies and things dates tend to end with a kiss, but this ain't a date. It's not work either though, leaving Angel unsure, and so he defaults to what he knows, starting towards the door.
"I had a good time. And I don't gotta lie about it neither...thanks. I'll uh...see around. Maybe invite you round mine next time."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The fur on his hands is less thick than in other places, but just as soft and he wonders if this might be a novel sensation for him, and how long it took before it began common place for Angel? "Tell me about next time," he encourages, licking a stripe delicately along his jaw and whispers in his ear, "Tell me all the thing you want to do to me?"
no subject
The fur is new. Some races back home are hairier than others, true, but none quite this much. Astarion, by contrast, simply doesn't grow any hair below his scalp and eyebrows. The skin under Angel's tongue is perfectly smooth, and he shivers at the touch.
"I want to take my time with you," he breathes, hips rolling against Angel's hand. "I want to open you up on my tongue and feel your thighs shuddering against my skin."
no subject
"I've seen how talented that lovely tongue is. Taking me apart~ And once m'good an' ready for ya?"
no subject
"I'd take you slowly," Astarion murmurs, tilting his head to give Angel the white expanse of his throat - unmarked but for two ragged punctures. "However you prefer to be taken, below me or on top of me - what do you like better?"
no subject
He licks over that scar gently. "Below, if I've been quivering all that time~" There's a teasing smirk, and then an honest answer. "...I like it best below, but where we're face ta face. Not the sort of answer a porn star's supposed ta have."
no subject
Astarion shudders at the touch, the doubling of sensation, the care taken to simulate the experience he's narrating.
"Then I'll have you like nobody's watching, darling. I'll wrap your legs around my waist and hide your body under mine, fuck you until you're trembling."
no subject
"Might be trembling all ready, you paint a tempting fuckin' picture. Would you make me wait? Long and slow but lot allowed until you're ready? Or you wanna see how many times I can go in a row before I'm begging?"
no subject
"That - mm, that depends on you." His voice is getting a little lower now, more laboured. Precome is leaking onto Angel's clever fingers as he moves restlessly, thrusting into his grip. "I look at you and want to indulge you. Want you to have everything you want."
He knows that's probably kind of alarming for someone like Angel. Gods know that he himself immediately defaults to trying to be what his lover wants, that he barely even knows what he enjoys in bed beyond the simplest acts of pleasure. But it's true.
no subject
Or it's just two whores both stuck in their roles of pleasing.
"I want...you ta come on my tongue. Let me taste you, Beautiful," he encourages, switching from the fantasy to the present to avoid the fear that put in him. And he moves to lower his face and part his lips, tongue presenting a pretty target for him while he switches to stroking him with his upper pair of arms.
no subject
It's such a lurid, visual thing to ask for, such a pornographic way to present himself - Astarion knows that it's a default to something familiar, regardless of whether he finds it unpleasant. But it's undeniably stimulating, appealing to some animal part of him which is just chasing bliss. He can only gasp a warning and curl his hands tight in the sheets before he comes.
no subject
He pumps Astarion through like he wants every drop he can get, holding the cum on his tongue and eyes trained on the elf before he swallows it down. Angel gives the oversensitive head a soft lick, releasing him with a coy grin, head ducking.
no subject
Astarion lets out a final shivering moan, the trace of overstimulation making his toes curl and his thighs twitch as Angel wrings out the very last of his orgasm.
"...Gods. Come here and kiss me, darling?"
no subject
no subject
"I've found it has much to recommend it," Astarion agrees. "You're excellent company."
no subject
no subject
"High praise," Astarion drawls, but he takes it in the spirit it was intended in. "Yes, I'd invite you back. I'd even respond favourably to an invitation of your own."
no subject
"Careful, a gal could catch feelins if ya go sayin stuff like that," he laughs, and gives a considering hum. "Been a while since I got to pick. You can expect ta get one."
no subject
"Wonderful." He stretches. "For now, though, due to my irrepressible criminal nature I'm afraid I don't have a shower to offer you."
no subject
no subject
"....I don't," Astarion says. "But I'll take the hint and endeavour to be courteous, going forward."
no subject
no subject
"Yes, well." Astarion looks away, not altogether comfortable with compliments about his interpersonal skills if they're not of the 'slot A, tab B' variety. "I have to make the occasional exception."
no subject
"How do people leave things when they ain't clients?"
no subject
"Here, you mean? However they like."
He goes about gathering his own clothes. Frankly, his experience of fucking people back home who weren't about to be taken away and eaten was...limited.
no subject
"I had a good time. And I don't gotta lie about it neither...thanks. I'll uh...see around. Maybe invite you round mine next time."
(no subject)
<3